


Live That Fantasy

by rockstarpeach



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Actor Jensen, Actor/Fan - Freeform, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Jared, Crushing Jared, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Movie Star Jensen, Oral Sex, Porn, Rough Sex, Schmoop, Sexual Fantasy, Thigh Holsters, Top Jensen Ackles, role play, smitten Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockstarpeach/pseuds/rockstarpeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's a famous action movie star.  And Jared loves him for him, he really does, but that doesn't stop him from sometimes fantasizing that Jensen is one of the characters from his movies.  He's been doing it since he was a kid, after all and old habits die hard.  When Jensen finds out about Jared's little secret, it turns out even better than Jared had hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live That Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/91867.html?thread=36134875#t36134875) on the kink meme. _Non-actor Jared has been dating his actor boyfriend Jensen for over a year. Due to circumstances up to author, Jared ends up admitting that when he was younger he was obsessed with an action show Jensen was in and used to fantasize about his character. He's embarrassed as Hell about it but when Jensen just teases him a bit and laughs it off, Jared thinks that's the end of it. Days later he comes home to find Jensen dressed and acting like that very character. Jared nearly comes in his pants. Sexy times ensue that blow all of Jared's old fantasies out of the water._

Tom Ransom has a mouth like a Hoover.

He's tanned and strong and brave, he rescues damsels in distress like they're going out of style and he blows up more Alliance outposts in one morning than most people have cups of coffee. He's beautiful, he's suave, he's brilliant. He fights hard, he loves easy, he quips like a mother fucker and people from LA to Shanghai want to gently and sweetly lick every single muscle on his perfectly formed body and then swoon while he carries them off to bed.

All this, Major Tom Ransom, US Space corps has going for him but on top of all that, and perhaps most importantly in Jared's mind, he's got a mouth like a Hoover.

He's sucking Jared, now.

Major Tom Ransom, three time Nova Heart recipient and single-handed saviour of the human race, wears thigh holsters like they're painted on and has a voice like velvet over rough gravel _Tom fucking Ransom_ is currently choking and drooling all over Jared Padalecki's cock and he's loving every second of it.

Jared sucks in a shaky breath and spreads his legs wider, lets Tom settle in a little deeper between them. Jared's rewarded with a soft hum and the vibrations send a tremor through his lower half, ease up when Jared tilts his hips more securely into Tom's wide hands. Tom's fingers skitter along his crack, two tips slipping just inside his hole and Jared moans, bears down. Tom uses the slightest scrape of teeth, swallows thickly around Jared's length and his fingers push in further, crook just a touch and Jared is fucking _gone_.

“Fuck,” he babbles, “Fuck, yes. Tom Ransom, _yes_!!!” and he's coming, straight down Tom's throat until he's spent and loose and he can't really see.

“Yes, _who_?” his lover asks, smiling against the side of Jared's neck after he presses kisses up the length of his sternum. Jared can hear the barely restrained glee and he curses when it all comes back to him.

 _Jensen_.

It's not like Jared ever actually forgets. He knows Jensen isn't any of the characters he plays in the movies and he's not so far crushed out on a certain beefcake war hero that he thinks he's real or anything. It's just... he's got an active fantasy life. He's been in love with Tom Ransom since he was in high school, since long before he met Jensen and sometimes he likes to pretend, is all.

What? You'd do it, too.

Except Jensen doesn't know. See, when they met five years ago at a star-studded benefit to cure Malaria that the charity Jared works for had helped organise, Jared had been so afraid of making a fool of himself that he sort of pretended he didn't know who Jensen was. And Jared can still play this cool, right now. He's seen all of Jensen's movies since they got together – obviously – and he can easily pretend this is a recent fantasy, brought on by the phone call from Jensen's agent last week about another possible sequel to the _Earth Fleet_ movies.

He could.

“Okay, don't make fun of me,” he hedges, too lazy, too comfortable, too sated to lie. 

“Oh, baby,” Jensen smiles, crawling up Jared's body just a little bit more, so they're lying side by side. “What are the chances of that?”

Jared shoots Jensen a scowl. Jensen promptly kisses it off.

“So, you were saying about how you're my biggest fan?” Jensen teases and Jared groans, face turning red.

“You wish. I tolerate your movies because I want to be supportive. You know, so you don't feel like a huge failure. I'm awesome like that.”

“Yeah? Then how come you're callin' out 'Ransom' when you blow your load? Anyway, I thought you only watched those movies once, before the last premier.”

“Shut up,” Jared mumbles, trying to hide his face in his arm. Now or never, he supposes. “Okay, fine. It's possible I may have - _possibly_ \- been a little obsessed with your movies when I was a kid. So what?”

“So nothin', sweetcheeks,” Jensen says, nipping at Jared's earlobe, licking behind it. He's having way too much fun with this. “Why didn't you ever say anything?”

Jared rolls his eyes, answering, “Gee, I wonder.”

“So... _how_ obsessed is a 'little'? Did you have my poster on your ceiling? Beat off to it at night?”

He's smiling again, still maybe, Jared can feel it against his cheek. Jared scowls harder, this time.

“Did you have _Earth Fleet_ on VHS? Wear out the tape at the scenes where I take my shirt off?”

“You're having way too much fun with this,” Jared says, because it's better than admitting that it was actually the sex scenes on his tapes that had worn out. God, how he'd dreamed of being the one in Tom Ransom's bed. Jared would know how to handle him way better than any of the women in those movies did.

“Aww, baby, don't be pissed,” Jensen cajoles, winding his arm around Jared's middle to hold him tighter. Jared kind of loves it, even if Jensen is being a raging pain in the ass. “It's not every day someone tells me they've dreamed about havin' my babies.”

“Argh, you're _such_ an asshole,” Jared snaps, making a show of pushing Jensen away, though he doesn't put much force behind it. “Also – yes, it is.”

Jared's there for a lot of it and it very much _is_ every day that some fan or other – at a red carpet, at a location shoot, at the grocery store – is falling all over Jensen, calling him 'Tom Ransom' or 'Jet Davis' or any one of the many characters he's played and telling Jensen how they've loved him forever.

“Yeah, okay it is,” Jensen admits, nipping at Jared's chin. Still smiling, the fuckhead. “But it's not every day I find out the man it took me _two months_ of wooing just to get to agree to _one date_ with me really wanted me all along. Oh,” Jensen says, pausing after that thought catches up.

“Oh, you little shit! You made me jump through fuckin' _hoops_ , man! I made an ass out of myself to get your attention! All the flowers and the showing up at your work and the _begging_? God, my friends are _still_ making fun of me! And now I find out all I needed to do was show up in an Earth Fleet bomber jacket and a scar over my eyebrow?”

Jared shrugs.

“I liked the buzz cut, too,” he answers, unapologetically. “That wouldn't have hurt.”

“I hate you,” Jensen growls, biting into Jared's shoulder as he rolls him over onto his stomach. “I really... fucking... hate you.”

The words are ground out between kisses and bites along Jared's shoulder and the back of his neck and any response Jared might have had beyond some vague, low chuckling is lost amidst his moans when Jensen settles between his thighs.

***

It's nearly a month later and Jared has just about forgotten his horribly embarrassing confession of adolescent devotion to a fiction character portrayed by his current boyfriend. He's nearly stopped blushing every time an 'Earth Fleet' ad comes on the television or a call from Jensen's agent comes in. Or Jensen looks at him and smiles.

He's nearly forgotten his deep and profound humiliation but he hasn't even come close to forgetting his sexy, dirty, _amazing_ Ransom fantasies. He still dreams sometimes, still finds himself imagining with his hand on his cock. Still sees, in his mind's eye, Ransom picking him up, fireman style, carrying him off down a dirt road on a desert moon with a red sun in the background, explosions following them as Ransom runs, slow-motion until suddenly they're in a bedroom. He sees Ransom lay him down on silk sheets, feels the soft and the cool and dreams of how Ransom eats his ass until he's screaming and ploughs him until he begs.

The explosions are still going off outside the window.

His fantasies are vivid. So vivid in fact, that when he opens the bedroom door and starts to shed his work shirt he barely even blinks at the sight in front of him.

Tom Ransom is there, on Jared and Jensen's bed, one leg on the floor, the other bent so his military-booted foot is pressed up close to his ass. His left elbow is slung lazily over his bent knee and he cocks his head and smiles a crooked smile at Jared. He's wearing his Earth Fleet jacket, he's got on his tight, black cargo pants. His hair is shorn close to this skull and his bent leg is outfitted with a holster, a perfect replica (the one from the movie that Jensen keeps in his closet) of a Fleet blaster.

His fingers hang in mid-air and they waggle slightly, along with Tom's eyebrows.

“Well, Jared Padalecki?” he asks. “You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna come realise your fantasy?”

Jared's mouth opens and closes a couple of times and he's pretty sure there's drool involved and he really, _really_ wants to realise his fantasy but the thing is, his legs aren't working. Neither is his mouth. Or his hands or... anything, really. Because this isn't all in his head like so many other times, this is Jensen, dressed up like Ransom and offering Jared the chance to live out something he's only ever dreamed of.

So it's a huge fucking relief (as well as slightly mortifying) when Jensen smirks as he stands up and saunters over, scoops Jared up in his arms. He turns, kicks the bedroom door shut with one flick of his heel and winks down at Jared while he carries him to the bed. He lays him down, presses a soft kiss to Jared's chin and then something changes. He grabs a fistful of Jared's hair, gives a sharp tug so Jared's head is thrown back and he lets out a small cry.

Jensen's fingers dig into Jared's hips and Jared goes with it, like he always does. Unlike always, however, when Jared tilts as far as he can go, Jensen keeps digging, digging so hard his fingernails leave marks and Jared winces, sucks in a breath and grips the sheets.

It's not _bad_ , not at all, but it is different.

Jensen lets go as soon as Jared stops his token squrims of protest, makes quick work of Jared's pants and underwear and then grabs Jared's thighs, pushing them up and apart. Jared tenses, his muscles flexing with anxious desire when Jensen's hands slide closer and closer the space between his legs but when they stop, when Jensen's fingers dig in hard again and he forces Jared's hips back and uncomfortable angle, when his teeth sink deeply into the soft flesh on the underside of Jared's right thigh, Jared is torn.

It's amazing. Feels so fucking good but it's so fucking _strange_.

“Jensen...?” he asks, whimpers when Jensen pounces, presses his fully clothed body flush on top of Jared's naked one. He's pressing down so hard that Jared is pinned, can't move. Not that he wants to.

“Not Jensen,” Jensen says, eyes flitting down to his costume. “Remember? I'm Ransom.”

“Ransom's usually a lot more gentle than this in the sack, isn't he?” Again, not that Jared's complaining. He makes that clear by hooking his legs around Jensen's waist and rocking against him.

Jensen smirks and uses one hand to unfasten his 'cargo pants, push them down just enough so his cock springs springs free. It's already hard and it's already slick (thank God) when Jared feels it press against the crevice of his hip and he groans and squirms in delight.

“Ransom has never fucked a dude before. I think if he did, it'd go a little something like this.”

And that's all the warning Jared gets before his ankles are behind his ears and Jensen is balls deep inside him. Jared only just has the brain function to take Jensen's lips in rough, biting kiss and then there's nothing but pounding and thrusting and flashes of short hair and leather jackets and thigh holsters and it's Jared's fantasy. It's Jared's high school fantasy, his very first jerk off fantasy, the fantasy he used to get him through his (less than exceptional) real first time.

It's four years of staring at the poster on his bedroom ceiling.

It's Ransom and it's Jensen and it's bruising force around his wrists and Jared immobile and at the mercy of the man on top of him. Jensen lets go of one hand and before Jared can complain it's back, but so is music. The soundtrack to Red squad flying in formation out from behind a dark moon to set up an ambush, the soundtrack to Tom Ransom, sweaty and covered in dirt with his shirt ripped and holding a blaster in one hand and a celebratory cigar in the other. It's soft and then louder, piano and symphony. It's a crescendo, explosions and then it's quiet. Jensen fucks him through it all, biting kisses along his neck and panting rough and heavy into his ear.

Jared comes with Jensen digging nail prints into the backs of his ribs and his own hands grasping at the pillow.

“Tom,” he gasps, nearly breathless. He can't speak, his vision is blurry and his limbs tremble.

It's the best orgasm he's had since the last time he and Jensen fucked.

***

“Welcome back, sleepy head,” Jensen says, kissing Jared's throat. He's still on top of Jared, still inside him. Which means Jared hasn't been out for long.

“Are you Jensen again?”

“Dunno,” Jensen smirks. “I think Tom might turn out to be one hell of a snuggler, don't you? He'll treat you right.”

“I'm sure he would,” Jared says, wincing when he tries to lower his legs. They're both cramped all to hell, still hiked up over Jensen's shoulders. “But Jensen hasn't let me down, yet. I'm kinda missing him at the moment.”

“Aww, baby,” Jensen coos, helps Jared ease his legs down and massages them along the way, until Jared isn't flinching anymore at the touch. “You really do love me for me.”

“God, asshat, can't you take anything seriously?” Jared's not entirely faking his annoyance but he does understand. They both made a joke out of it, sure but Jared knows Jensen well enough to know that he must be wondering. He's had more than enough people show interest in him just because of his fame and his fortune and his pretty face. Despite Jared's active fantasy life, his relationship with Jensen has never been about that.

“I'm taking you leaking my come all over my thousand dollar sheets pretty seriously,” Jensen says, wiping at Jared's ass with his sleeve.

“Oh my God!” Jared shouts, scrambles up and out of Jensen's reach. He flails for his pants and stuffs them under his hips and then _glares_ at Jensen. 

“What?” Jensen asks, sitting up on his knees. He's still dressed, flagging cock hanging out from the V of his zipper and he looks ridiculous. Jared can't help but laugh. “ _What_!?”

“Do you have any idea how much that jacket is worth?!” Jared asks, staring at the wet smear. “Way more than your sheets, princess. Plus, you look like a moron with your dick hanging out like that. Now why don't you strip like a good boy and come to bed?”

“Tom Ransom is _not_ a good boy,” Jensen says, but he's already losing his jacket and his shirt is soon to follow.

“No, he's not. But Jensen Ackles is.”

Jensen gives Jared a crooked smile, a shrug, a silent 'what ya gonna do?' before he loses his pants and his jacket and flops down next to Jared. He pauses, frowns and tugs the pants out form under Jared, sends those over onto the floor as well and then he smiles, big and wide.

“So, how was it?” he asks. “Everything you thought it would be?”

Jared barks out a sharp laugh and shakes his head, tossing one of his legs over top of Jensen's.

“And then some.”

It's quiet for a while, enough time that Jared thinks Jensen might have fallen asleep before Jared whispers, “You didn't need to make a fool of yourself.”

“Mmmuh?” Jensen garbles, fingers twitching against Jared's chest. He's awake, but just barely. A good, long fuck always knocks Jensen out.

“When we first met. You didn't need to make a fool of yourself. I didn't need any stunts or gifts or grand proclamations. I didn't need a bomber jacket or a buzz cut or... okay, I _really_ like that thigh holster.” Jensen snickers and Jared smiles. “Anyway, if you'd managed to hold out for just one more day before you called me that first time, I wouldn't have. I'd have been on the other end of the line, begging you for a date instead.”

Jensen's arm around him tightens in a gentle squeeze and Jensen sucks a deep bruising kiss to the hollow of Jared's neck – one more mark to add to tonight's collection and fuck, he's going to look a beautiful mess in the morning – before Jensen sighs deeply, pinches Jared's nipple so Jared squirms.

“I love you, Jared Padalecki.”

Jared smirks and relaxes sleepily back against Jensen.

“I love you too, Tom Ransom.”

END


End file.
